


Better

by Ashkah



Series: Fudomine college-verse [2]
Category: Prince of Tennis, tennis no oujisama
Genre: Drabble, Established Relationship, Kamio in leather, M/M, Suggestive Themes, possessive!Shinji
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-18
Updated: 2012-10-18
Packaged: 2017-11-16 13:22:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/539880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashkah/pseuds/Ashkah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shinji hates watching Akira at work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an livejournal user named karupin_kira for a fic exchange on the fudomine_love community. Companion to A New Home.

Ibu Shinji hated watching Kamio Akira at work.  
  
Shinji didn’t hate the job. He loved the job. He loved how friendly Akira’s co-workers were to him and the hospitality they always gave him when he came. He loved how truly immersed in the music Akira became up on the platform as he got the crowds revved up and let the beat flow through him. He especially loved the way Kamio looked in the night club’s leather outfit, a guilty pleasure he’d more than willingly admit to. Most importantly of all, however, was that he loved that his partner had been lucky to find a career that he enjoyed so much. No matter what anyone else said, to him, Kamio ranked among the best of the Tokyo Bay area DJs, and he couldn’t be more proud of him for that.  
  
What he hated about it were the groupies; the hordes of star-crazed people who tried to get as close as they could to anyone remotely well-known. The girls showing more cleavage than should be allowed for their ages flirting shamelessly in the hopes of winning a night with Akira afterward. Shinji hated watching them crowd around the platform as his lover performed for the masses, hanging over the guard rails as if being a groupie gave them authority to do so. He even had to resist the urge to snap the necks of a couple of them in the past who had been bold enough to try and drape themselves around Kamio as he left the floor for his scheduled breaks.  
  
It would be so easy for him to tap a few on the back and threaten their livelihood if they even so much as looked at Akira in a suggestive manner. Unfortunately for him, Ibu also knew that it would be bad for the club’s business for him to push his way through the bodies of sweaty, over-sexed dancers and proclaim the redhead as his property alone, and he didn’t want to be responsible for Kamio losing his dream job.  
  
In the end, however, Shinji supposed it didn’t matter. While all those people could only imagine what lay beneath that skintight leather, he knew. He’d seen it, felt it, caressed it. It made it okay, because they trusted each other more than anything. Knowing that at the end of the night, when it was all over, that lithe form gyrating up there to the music would coming home only to him, somehow that made it feel just a little better.


End file.
